


Cut to the Feeling

by AgentStannerShipper



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Data (Star Trek)'s Emotion Chip, F/M, LITERALLY, Lingerie, Porn with Feelings, Post-Movie: Star Trek Generations (1994), Premature Ejaculation, but they work it out and have hot sex, data needs a hug, its the same level as in canon so it should be fine, mild references to tashas traumatic backstory, mostly - Freeform, sex drive complications, these babies actually know how to communicate now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: The after-effects of Soran's plans are a lot for Data to cope with, especially with a shiny new emotion chip in place. Tasha has a suggestion for how to unwind, with unexpected results.They work through it. They always do.
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	Cut to the Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> I have mixed feelings about the emotion chip re: Data feeling. If anyone is following my fic Like Clockwork, I go into more depth about it there in terms of how I tend to see it. But, at the same time, I thought the way it was depicted in canon might make for a fun, kind of humorous and embarrassing, but ultimately hot and endearing sex scene. Why waste a gift like that?
> 
> Title from Carly Rae Jepson's Cut to the Feeling. I think it works.

It had been, to use the standard vernacular, a long day. Under normal circumstances, Data might have said that days, being a fixed unit of measurement, could technically vary only in that some worlds experienced much longer days and others much shorter ones, owing to the nature of different axis rotations and standard orbits from each given planet to its sun, and on a starship, which did not orbit anything and ran according to strict Starfleet regulations, the length of a day could not vary at all.

But these were not normal circumstances, and it had been a very long day.

Quarters on the _Farragut_ were just as nice as the _Enterprise_ , if less personal, but although many of the crew’s belongings had been salvaged from the wreckage, Data still found himself feeling…out of place. Spot purred in his lap, his hands moving rhythmically over her back as he stroked her fur, but the couch he was sitting on was not his couch. The paintings on display were not his paintings. There was no chalk art on the walls, and his violin was in a cargo hold somewhere, and Data might still have been brand new to feeling to this degree, but the sense of mild nausea due to missing his traditional living quarters was not difficult to identify. Homesick, he thought, was an apt term.

Tasha slid onto the sofa next to him, scratching her fingers along Spot’s shoulders as she pressed into Data’s side, and warmth bubbled through Data all over again. He had assumed, before the moment he’d first seen her beam down, that he was prepared for the onslaught of emotion. Reviewing his memories of her had sparked affection and joy. There had been anticipation; they’d discussed his implementing the chip for several months now, and with her away on assignment, he’d hoped it would be a pleasant surprise for her to come back to find him full of feeling. In the midst of it all there’d been relief that she wasn’t on the ship and regret that he might never see her again and a desperate longing for a dozen things that he could not identify. But none of it had compared to her arrival with the _Farragut_ , the way she’d looked terrified and relieved and _beautiful,_ and Data had been sure he was short-circuiting for a second time as the sudden surge of love had bowled him over. He had run to her, kissed her, held her tight in his arms, and cried, more than a little, his breath coming in short gasps and his body shaking as she shushed him, stroking his back and his hair and telling him that is was going to be okay. But Data had already known, because she was there with him, and in that moment, that was everything.

This was a different moment. Tasha nudged him, bumping his shoulder with her own. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

It wasn’t a joke. He could read the concern in her voice without looking at her face. He knew her forehead would be slightly scrunched, her eyebrows drawn together. He had seen the look many times.

It took him a moment to find the words. “I am feeling…a great deal.”

Her arm snaked around him, rubbing his back. “From the sound of it, you all went through a lot.”

“I did not realize fear could be so consuming. Or guilt. Even the positive emotions…they can be overwhelming. There were moments…many moments, where they interfered with my ability to do my job.”

“But you want to keep them?”

He nodded. “It will take…some getting used to. Many of the sensations are recognizable, indicative of the ways I felt them before, but they are stronger now.” He looked at her, and covered her hand with his own. “I knew I loved you. I did not realize just how much.”

She flushed, cupping his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. Data met it, his breath hitching as she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, nibbling gently on it. When she broke it, almost too soon, she rested her forehead against his, biting her own lip in a way that made certain pathways in Data’s neural net perk up hopefully. Her smile was playful. “If you’re up for it, I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

She nodded. “Something I brought back with me. I was planning on saving it, but you’ve had a long day. I think you deserve a treat, don’t you?”

The suggestive pitch of her voice sent a shudder through Data. It had never been this easy for her to work him up. He wasn’t certain if he ought to be embarrassed or delighted, and settled for both. “Yes, please,” he said.

“I don’t know,” Tasha teased. “I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I have no objections to you overwhelming me. I believe, given the circumstances, that we have ‘earned it.’”

She laughed, bopping a kiss to his nose, and standing up. “Go wait in the bedroom. I’ll be right in.”

Data scooped Spot off his lap and did as he was told. The cat disappeared behind the sofa and Tasha flashed him one last smile before shutting the bedroom door behind him, blocking the living quarters from view. Data took a seat on the bed, folding his hands in his lap. The anticipation was back, simmering through him, a different flavor than the previous kinds. This one he liked even more. Patiently, he waited.

The bedroom door slid open, and this time Data did, figuratively, short-circuit. His mouth fell open without any conscious intent, and the majority of his processors ceased to function, narrowing the full band of his attention onto Tasha.

Tasha leaned in the doorway, her pose seductive, emphasizing the hug of dark blue lace, patterned intricately and pushing up her breasts. Sheer fabric hung down, parting tantalizingly around her navel, sparkling with star patterns and drawing attention to the matching panties, practically see-through and hooked to garters that held up equally sheer, equally provocative stockings. She grinned at him, biting her lip again, and Data did the only sensible thing he could think of. He lunged for the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“Data, what-“

Data covered his ears, sinking down against the closed door until he hit the floor, shaking so hard he was sure he’d vibrate to pieces. His whole body was stiff, right down to the erection between his legs, tenting his uniform trousers. Data had never understood the expression ‘painfully hard’ before, but he understood it now, and he bit back a whimper as his cock throbbed in confirmation of that aching need. He pushed a fist into his lap, trying not to sob at the relief of the pressure, and sucked in short, uneven breaths. Desperately, he tried to deactivate the subroutines, subroutines _he hadn’t activated,_ controlling his sexual responses, but even in his mind he felt uncoordinated, shaky, and all he could feel was heat, heat and fear and shame burning through him as the routines stayed active and his cock stayed hard. His exhales were half cry.

A knock came at the door, soft and uncertain. “Data? Baby, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, couldn’t do anything but tremble and burn, his hand still between his legs like the crowning tribute of his shame.

“Say something, or I’m overriding the lock.”

“Do not.” The words came out broken, but he got them out. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, even knowing she couldn’t see it. “You cannot…open the door. It is not safe.”

“Not safe?”

“For you. Please.”

There was silence, then a sliding noise, like Tasha had joined him on the floor. “Talk to me,” she murmured. “What happened?”

“I…I do not know.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Doubt crept into her voice. “I thought this was pretty tame compared to some of the other stuff we’ve done, but if you don’t like it-“

“That is…not the problem.” Data huffed out a laugh, because the alternative was to keep crying. He finally managed to wrench his hand from his lap, covering his face. “Oh god.”

“Data?”

“I do not…feel…in control.”

There was a long pause. Then, in a careful voice, Tasha said, “Describe the feeling to me, baby.”

Data tilted his head back against the door, his eyes going to the ceiling as if it held the answers. He took a few deep breaths, and his body started to calm. “I am…aroused.”

“Yeah? What else?”

“I want you. I am…desperate…to feel you against me. To be inside you.” His cock twitched at the thought of it.

For unfathomable reasons, he could hear a smile in her voice. “Yeah?”

“There is an…urge…to copulate. Tasha, I have never…I have never experienced this before.” His erection was, finally, going down, but the panic was rising. “I am going to deactivate myself. You should-“

“Wait. Data, you’re not deactivating yourself.”

“Tasha-“

“Open the door.”

“I cannot guarantee your safety-“

“Data. Door open. Now.”

He steeled himself, rising to his feet with some difficulty. He took one last breath, ensured the last vestiges of his erection had safely faded, and gave the command to unlock the door.

It slid open. Tasha had her arms crossed and a look of concern on her face. She’d pulled on a robe, the fluffy fabric covering up everything but her legs in the stockings, and Data averted his eyes, trying to avoid thinking about what they led up to.

Tasha cupped his face, turning his head towards her until he was forced to meet her gaze. “Hey. Look at me.” Her thumb stroked his cheek, and Data leaned into it. It was selfish. He did not deserve it. But it soothed him, and he could not resist the touch.

“It is unsafe for me to be in your presence right now,” he mumbled.

“I don’t think it is.” Tasha pulled away from him, taking his hands instead, and guiding him back to the bed. She sat down on the edge of it, and pulled him down too. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt me,” she said.

“Tasha.” Data searched for the words, and when he felt he had them, he met her eyes, trying to convey the severity of the situation. “I experienced a sexual reaction that I did not choose to allow. I reacted to you without intending to.”

“It’s called lust,” Tasha said. She was smiling, and Data didn’t understand. “Baby, it’s a normal feeling. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I do not think you understand.” Data sat forward. “Tasha, I do not have a sex drive.”

“I know.” Tasha squeezed his hand. “But that was before. We knew the chip might have some…unexpected side effects. That’s not a bad thing. Lots of humans have a sex drive.”

Data shook his head. He didn’t know how to make her see, so he put it in the plainest words possible. “Our relationship has been successful because you feel safe in my presence. If I begin experiencing sexual urges and desiring to act on them, you will no longer feel safe.”

Tasha’s eyes went wide, and beneath the despair Data felt a flash of something he thought might have been satisfaction. He had gotten through to her. Slowly, Tasha said, “Data…how long have we been together?”

The answer was automatic. “Approximately five years, seven months, and thirteen days.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “And how often do we have sex?”

He blinked. This was not the response he had expected. “I suppose it depends on your method of determination. If you measure by time between liaisons, or if you factor in the frequency of orgasm-“

She interrupted, “Let’s just say it’s a lot, yeah?”

“I believe we would be considered above average, yes.” Once they’d gotten past the initial hurdles, they’d discovered that Tasha had an extremely active sex drive, and Data had been more than willing to accommodate.

She tilted her head, pointedly. “And you’re going to tell me, all those times we had sex, you were just doing it because I wanted to?”

He frowned. “Of course not. I have told you before, I derive great pleasure from our sexual intimacy.”

“You enjoy it.”

“Yes.”

“You want it?”

“Yes.”

Tasha raised her eyebrows. “Data, I don’t see the difference.” Her fingers played at the collar of the robe, but Data couldn’t tell if the action was calculated or subconscious. He reached out and stilled her hands.

“The difference is, when I desired you before, there was no compulsion to follow through,” he explained. “I would not react unless I intentionally chose to do so. This is different. The…lust…seems to bypass my normal protocols, reacting whether I intend to or not.”

“I’m still not seeing the problem.” Tasha covered his hands with hers. “Do you think I never look at you and think ‘god, I want to hit that,’ and then don’t because we’ve got something else going on?”

He blinked. “I do not know.”

“All the time. _All_ the time.” She smiled. “Baby, those impulses are controllable. If they weren’t, we’d have a lot more sex on the bridge.”

“We have never had sex on the bridge.”

“Exactly.”

He stared at her. She looked a little bit smug, and more than a little fond. She drew his hands to her lips, kissing the knuckles gently. “We’ve been together _five years_ ,” she murmured, nuzzling her cheek against his hands. She looked up at him. “We’ve come way too far for me to be scared of you because you’ve realized seeing me in lingerie turns you on.”

“You have had negative experiences with men before. Men who put their desires above your wellbeing.”

Her face darkened. “Data, those don’t even compare.” She closed her eyes, and took a breath. When she opened them again, she asked, “If I say no, will you still stop?”

For her sake, he gave it a moment of honest consideration. Consciously, he would never have desired to hurt Tasha that way, or any other, but that did not mean he had full control. But, after a moment of checking and as far as he could tell, the emotion chip still maintained his morality programming. “Yes,” he said.

“And if I use a safeword, you’ll respect it?”

“Of course.”

“Then Data, it’s _fine_.” She gripped his hands again. “I know this is a little overwhelming for you. I’m sorry if I made it worse. But I love you, and I promise you, this is not a bad thing.”

Data remained uncertain. He hesitated. “Thus far, I have identified both my personal programming and the parameters of our relationship based on a particular sexual dynamic. I am…not certain how I feel about those parameters changing.”

Tasha bit her lip. It wasn’t a sexual gesture. It was as uncertain as he was. “I can’t speak for you personally,” she said softly. “But baby, I don’t need our relationship to always be me initiating, and you following. Maybe at first, but not anymore.”

“I am more comfortable with that dynamic. I…like it, when you take the lead.”

She flushed. Her fingers tightened against his. “I know. But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to want it, even if I don’t. It’s the acting on it that matters.”

Data swallowed. “Even if that were true, I am…I am not accustomed to ‘wanting it.’ Not without a direct cue of your interest.”

“And that scares you?”

“Scared may not be the appropriate word. I am simply not certain it is ‘me.’”

“Okay.” Tasha nodded slowly. “Well. You have a couple options. If it’s too much, you could take away the chip. You wouldn’t feel any different than before.”

Something in Data tightened at the idea. It must have shown on his face, because Tasha gave him a sympathetic smile. “Or,” she said, “if you don’t like the tradeoff, you could see if you and Geordi can delete those subroutines. You could keep everything else, but get rid of the sex stuff.”

“Doctor Soong’s work with emotion is too far advanced beyond our own,” Data admitted. “Perhaps one day we will be able to, but for the time being we would be unable to make any significant changes to this code without destabilizing most of the programming.”

“Which leaves you with just one option.”

“I would have to learn to live with it.”

“Could you?”

“I…do not know.” Data considered it. Without the chip, he was functional. It was the state he had existed in for most of his life. But even having only had the chip a short time, there was so much _more_ he could do, could experience. And it felt good. It felt like a part of him he had been unable to access before. Gradually, he said, “Your sexual identity has been complicated. It has shifted over time.”

Her forehead crinkled, but she smiled. “Yes?”

“Was it difficult for you? To transition your image of yourself to reflect your new feelings?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Sometimes yes. Sometimes no.”

“Could you elaborate?”

She stroked her fingers against his. “I don’t know, baby. It’s different. I never…it wasn’t that I didn’t have a sex drive. I just…wasn’t using it right.” She tilted her head. “I guess it wasn’t so hard, realizing that there were some things I wanted. The way I felt about women. The way I feel about you. What was hard was…trying to figure out how to want sex for the right reasons. How to want it because it was something that I wanted to do, rather than something to use like a tool.”

Data nodded. “The attraction was the same, but your desire for sex changed.”

“You could put it like that, yeah.”

Data looked at their joined hands. “Without the emotion chip, I experienced attraction to you, but I only experienced a sex drive on a functional level, when the intended programming was activated.”

Tasha caught on. “And like everything else, the emotion chip heightened it. You didn’t need to make the same connections anymore. The function is the same, it’s just more automatic now, and the feeling is stronger.”

“That appears to be correct.”

“Does that make you feel better about it?”

Her expression was tender, and Data bowed his head, feeling the urge to blush. Without a mirror, he couldn’t be certain if his cheeks actually colored, but he felt heat there regardless. “I believe it does. I…apologize.”

“For what?”

“For overreacting.”

Tasha shook her head, “Baby, this is a big deal for you. You didn’t overreact.”

“I locked myself in a bathroom.”

Tasha opened her mouth, and then closed it. She fought a smile. “Okay, maybe you overreacted a little.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “If that’s the way you reacted to the lace, I can’t wait to see what you do with the leather.”

His eyes widened, and she laughed. “Don’t worry. We won’t break that out until you feel ready.” She squeezed his hands. “Why don’t we go to bed? Just to sleep. I’m not sure if you get tired now, but…”

“I do not.” At least, he hadn’t so far, although he appreciated the out. He let himself look at the robe, the hints of skin and stocking peeking out. He wet his lips, making a decision. “My…stamina appears unchanged.”

It was a clumsy flirtation, but effective. A laugh lit Tasha’s eyes, even as she tried to suppress it. “Oh, really?”

“It is just a hypothesis. It will require further research.”

“Lucky for you,” Tasha purred, “you have a _very_ willing lab partner.”

Her hands went to the belt of the robe, and Data stilled them again. Tasha looked up at him, and Data admitted, “I am nervous.”

“We don’t have to do this now.”

“No. But I would like to.”

Her smiled softened into something that was pure affection. She cupped his cheek, leaning in for a long, slow kiss. Data closed his eyes, melting into it easily. Against his lips, she murmured, “It’s alright to be nervous. Do you trust me?”

He nodded.

“Then let me lead. It’ll be okay.”

She pulled away, and Data opened his eyes, watching as she shed the robe, the fabric pooling on the floor at her feet. He was prepared this time, so the reaction wasn’t quite so strong, but the revealing fabric, and the way it clung to Tasha’s body, was still enough to make swallowing difficult, his breathing turning shallow as his pants tightened again. His fingers twitched, and he realized he was clutching at the bedspread almost hard enough to tear.

Tasha smoothed her hands down her sides, emphasizing her figure, and Data’s breath hitched. It was an uncertain gesture on her part, but it was something she wouldn’t have even been able to consider doing only a few years ago, and that, Data realized, was highly attractive.

She nodded towards the bed. “Why don’t you sit against the headboard, okay?”

He shuffled into position, and Tasha bent forward to climb back onto the bed. Data nearly bit through his lip as the motion flashed the tops of her breasts at him, and then held his breath as she started to crawl towards him.

Halfway up the bed, she stopped, sitting back on her heels with a look of fond amusement. “Data, this is supposed to be fun. You look like a mannequin, without the personality.” She trailed her fingers lightly over his shin. “Breathe, baby. You’re doing great.”

Data nodded, intentionally taking a breath, and forcing some of the tension to leave his body. Tasha slid forward the rest of the way, straddling his legs just shy of his lap. She cocked her head at him. “Still good?”

He nodded again, more slowly this time. His hands flexed against the sheets, and Tasha caught the motion. “Do you want to touch, baby?”

“Please.”

It came out half a keen, and Tasha laughed. She took his hands and guided the first to rest against her hip. The fabric of her lingerie – babydoll, the part of his brain still able to process supplied – was silky smooth under his fingers, and he could feel the outline of the lace panties beneath it. Tasha took his other hand between both of her own, her thumbs against his palm, and bent her head to press a kiss to his curled fingers. Data shuddered, and then inhaled sharply as she brought his hand in to cup her breast, kneading at it gently. The lace was soft, and her skin was warm, and Data reacted on impulse, leaning forward to press his mouth to her breast through the lace, suckling until he felt her nipple harden and peak, scraping his teeth over it the way he knew she liked. Tasha let out a squeak, half pleasure, half surprise, and anchored his head there, letting up only when he made to switch breasts, giving the other the same treatment. Her chest heaved, and Data tightened his grip on her hip, needing something to cling on to.

The fabric was thoroughly damp from his mouth before she pulled him away, dragging his lips to hers and kissing him hard. She fisted a hand in his hair, groaning against his mouth, and Data let her tongue press inside, sweeping against his, and he hadn’t expected her to _taste_ like anything, but she did, even if he couldn’t identify it now. He brought his knees up without thinking about it, wanting her closer, and Tasha slid forward, her weight falling against his crotch, and Data broke the kiss to whimper at the sudden stimulation. Tasha pressed their foreheads together, still clutching the back of his neck, breathing heavily. “Okay.” She shifted, and Data keened. It shouldn’t have been so much; they had done things like this before, hundreds of times, but the sensation was new, was overwhelming, and Data’s artificial heart felt like it was racing, his skin flushed and a heat coursing through him like he’d never felt before.

Tasha nosed against his cheek, her breath warm against him. “How are we doing? Are we okay?”

“I believe I am…” He was shaking again, he realized. “I am more sensitive now.”

“To what?”

“To everything.”

A smile spread across her face. “You jewel,” she murmured, and it was a rare phrase, a heavy one, and the weight of it made Data whimper, fists clenching and unclenching as he searched for control.

Tasha was one step ahead of him. She rolled her hips down, grinding against his lap, and Data moaned. He pulled her down to meet him, arching his own hips up to rut against her. His pants felt constricting, pulled so tight against his cock that Data was sure they’d cut off circulation, and he fumbled between them, fingers shaking, trying to release it. It brushed the backs of his knuckles against Tasha’s underwear, and she let out a soft cry that made him still. “Here,” she breathed, and helped him, pulling down the waistband of his uniform trousers to free his cock, which sprang up, pressing eagerly into Tasha’s hand. She flicked her thumb across the tip, collecting the precum beading there, and stroked down, twisting the way she’d done a thousand times, the way that Data knew always had favorable results.

It made him scream, the sound half her name, punched from his throat before he could stop it, his cock jerking and spilling across her fist in ribbons. They both froze, staring at each other, and then Tasha bit her lip. Her shoulders shook, and Data realized she was holding in laughter.

He flushed. “I…”

“Oh, baby.” Tasha shook her head, and she couldn’t keep all the giggles contained behind the words. “It’s fine, it happens.”

“It has never happened to me before.”

She wiped her hand on the bedspread, and then stroked his hair out of his face. “First time for everything, right?”

Her eyes flicked down, curious, and Data’s blush deepened. “I do not have a refractory period,” he reminded her. He had only flagged to half mast regardless, but the unexpected orgasm had ‘taken the edge off,’ another expression that he now understood. The desire was still there, but it didn’t feel so overwhelming, so urgent. When Tasha’s fingers brushed against him, he reactivated the function – consciously this time – and swelled back to full hardness without difficulty. The bioplast skin felt a bit tender, which was new, but not unpleasant.

Tasha laughed and shook her head. “You’re perfect,” she told him.

“I do not believe that is true. Perfection-“

She shut him up with a kiss, and one of Data’s arms instinctively encircled her back, drawing her closer. His erection rubbed against the crotch of her panties, damp with her own natural lubrication and his as she rocked into him. He slid one hand up her thigh, pressing two fingers under the fabric and between her folds, and Tasha moaned and spread herself wider for him, her grip tightening when he slipped them inside, crooking and rubbing against her walls. She broke the kiss to pant, “I want you to fuck me. Just like this, baby, come on.”

Data withdrew his fingers, pushing her panties aside so he could line himself up, and he hissed as the head nocked against her. Tasha braced herself against his shoulder, adjusting the angle until gravity could do the work, and they both groaned as the head slid inside, the warm wetness of her cunt welcoming him in. Data closed his eyes, squeezing them shut, and tucked his face against her neck. Tasha kept her arms wrapped around him, holding him close, and encouraged him deeper with little rocks of her hips, her breath hitching with each centimeter.

Data thought he might cry when he bottomed out. He had meant it when he said sex felt good before; it had been highly pleasurable, but this was different, intense, and he suspected that the first orgasm was the only thing keeping him from coming a second time, buried deep in her tight heat.

They held there for a minute, Data’s positronic net trying to catalogue every sensation. The feel of her garters and stockings against his thighs. The slickness dripping along his cock, her body still producing more wetness to ease penetration. The slight flexes of her fingers against him, trembles so minute she might not have been aware of them. The puff of her breath. The weight of her against his chest, all silk and lace and skin and warmth.

“I love you,” he whispered, and Tasha’s breath hitched.

“I love you too,” she murmured. She shifted, and it nudged him inside her. She swallowed, and did it again, and Data helped, moving her gently until they could establish a rhythm, slow, easy slides that kept him most of the way inside her, rubbing at her walls and making her pant. She was gorgeous, he thought. Absolutely perfect.

The tightness was building inside him again, and he let her drop down with a little more force, punching an “ _ah!”_ from Tasha’s lips. He did it again, and she moaned and bit at his earlobe and whispered, “again _,”_ and he thrust up inside her, harder, until he was fucking into her in long, sharp thrusts and Tasha was groaning, “ _yes,_ baby, love you, so good _, oh, yes!”_

“You feel so good,” he told her, because it was true, her body clenching down around him, massaging his cock, each thrust sparking increasing pleasure through his systems. “ _Tasha.”_

She gasped, eyes closed, head thrown back, absolutely radiant as she moved on top of him, meeting his thrusts. She fumbled for his hand, pushing it between her legs, and Data obliged, gently at first to ease her into the sensation and then harder when he knew she could take it, until she was crying out and rippling around his cock, coming hard, and Data panted, biting back the urge until she murmured frantically, “Come in me, baby, I want to feel you, _please_.”

He groaned, spilling inside her without further prompting, and for a moment his sensors went blank, leaving nothing but whiteness and empty sound.

A hand stroking his face brought him back, and he blinked. Tasha was smiling at him. She tipped his head back, pecking a kiss to his lips, and then whispered. “Hey. You still here?”

He catalogued. He did not feel particularly different than any other sexual encounter they’d had. There was satisfaction, the last lingering traces of pleasure still sparking in his circuitry. There was warmth, the feeling he knew as affection, swelling in his chest. The feelings were no different than any other occasion. Only the strength of them had changed.

Slowly, he nodded. His cock remained inside her, softening as his sexuality programming deactivated. She slid off him carefully, easing him out of her body. She winced at the sensation, rubbing her thighs, and Data replaced her hands with his own, massaging the muscles. She wrapped an arm around his neck, leaning into him. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that worked for you too.”

“It was extremely pleasurable.” His hands paused on the garters. “Should I remove these?”

“Yeah.” She bent to unclip one, and he took the other, helping her peel them and her panties off of her legs. She undid the star clasp at the front of the babydoll and shrugged that off too, leaving her naked on the bed. Data’s subroutines stirred again, interested, but she yawned, and he settled without complaint. He still had control.

She tugged on the hem of his uniform shirt, and murmured, “Off.” She touched his pants. “These too.”

Obediently, he stripped, another wave of affection hitting him as he watched Tasha sweep the mess of garments onto the floor, shoving back the covers and climbing under them.

“We should change the sheets,” he reminded her, and received a grunt in response that made him smile. He scooped her into his arms and settled her in the bathroom before returning to take care of the bed. The water ran briefly in the background, and by the time Data had found his and Tasha’s sleep clothes, put his on, and let Spot back in, Tasha emerged from the bathroom, still sleepy but clean. She half-fell into her pajamas, and made no complaints when Data tucked her in, nudging him to roll over so she could spoon him from behind. There was a soft thump as Spot jumped, then settled at the foot of the bed.

Data gave the command for the computer to turn off the lights, and then closed his eyes. It had been a long day. The _Enterprise_ was still half-destroyed. They had come nerve-wrackingly close to death, and Data had felt each one of those seconds in agonizing detail. There were still questions about the emotion chip and whether he would be able to keep his feelings in check, and there would undoubtedly be moments of guilt in the morning, and grief over some of his actions, forgiven or no. It was not an encouraging list. But there was one thing Data could check off it, because in the dark, with Tasha’s arms around his chest and his legs twined with hers, with Spot’s purring rumbling and his eyes shut tight, it didn’t matter that this wasn’t their bedroom in their quarters on the _Enterprise_. It still felt like home.


End file.
